


Do Not Envy the Fire

by DinosaurTheology



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Angst, Awkward Conversations, Campfires, F/M, Falling In Love, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Late Night Conversations, Loss of Virginity, Love, Relationship Discussions, Sex, Talking, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 14:40:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15584133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DinosaurTheology/pseuds/DinosaurTheology
Summary: A big thing just happened--and another is coming up. Zelda feels like coming apart, wishes she could be free like the fire. Urbosa sets her straight. It's all you can do for your little bird, after all.





	Do Not Envy the Fire

Zelda slipped from her bedroll--softly, so as not to wake him--and padded on quiet feet into the cool desert night. She found Urbosa, sat beside her and leaned against the larger woman’s shoulder. Fire flickered off gold ornaments in long, thick hair that was its twin in color and luster. Zelda inhaled deeply, took in the cloves, allspice and cinnamon she associated with kindness, comfort, wisdom and everything Urbosa meant to her.

She displayed that wisdom by biding a moment before speaking. A lesser mortal may have asked, “was it good,” or even “did you do it?” The Gerudo’s mighty champion simply said, instead, “Vasaaq, vhivure. Are you ready for tomorrow?”

“As I will ever be,” she said, and then yawned.

Urbosa frowned. “You are kind for keeping company with an old woman like me but you should go and find some sleep, instead. You will need it tomorrow.”

“You’re not old, Urbosa. And what about you? Don’t champions need sleep?

She smiled showing sharp, even white teeth. “Your champion seems to, if nothing else. His snores are as loud as Naboris’ thunder, eh?”

Zelda blushed. “You shouldn’t tease me,” she said.

“Whyever not, my love?”

“I, you, er… I’m the princess?”

Urbosa threw her head back and laughed. It was a long laugh, loud and unafraid. Soaring high above them, on her stilt like legs, Naboris seemed to laugh, too. It may just have been her lightning that crackled on the air. “Do you think I ever refrained from teasing your mother? And she was a queen, let alone a princess.”

“I… I suppose you didn’t, did you?” Zelda said.

“Most astute, my little bird. And she blushed and stammered just like you--perhaps worse since she did not have me teaching her how strong a vai should be since she was but a little thing. But you are strong, sweetling, as the rocks that make the bones of Hyrule. There is fear in you, yes, as in any vai or voe but… there is no quitting in you.”

“I pray there is not. I used to tell myself, Urbosa, that I was not afraid to die, not afraid to lay down my life in service to my country. But now? After tonight? My head’s all muddled. It’s not a good time for my head to be muddled, is it?”

“No,” Urbosa said, “it is not. So let me tell you story about a great Gerudo vai from years past. Look into the fire with me, see how it dances.”

“Yes,” Zelda said. “It twists and weaves so freely. I envy it.”

“Do not envy the fire, my love, for that is how you get burned. This is the story of a great Gerudo dancer, a daughter of the line of Din herself, who fought to protect her town from a deadly pirate. Her name was Siantae.”

Urbosa wove the story with aplomb as she always did. It wound deep into the night and mixed with music on the air, the keening of Gerudo vai and the melancholy strains of Rito accordians and their high voices as they rode the wind. It was said in many places that when one sang sweetly that one sang like a bird. In Hyrule it was well known that all birds envied the Rito, and all Rito envied Torio and his beloved student Kass most of all.

By the time it had finished Zelda felt herself close to sleep. Urbosa nudged her gently and chuckled. “Have I bored you so, little one? I thought the tale of Siante an exciting one.”

“It was, just…” She sighed. “It’s so hard to be brave. Everyone expects so much of me. I’m the princess of Hyrule, the avatar of Nayru’s wisdom, the one chosen to stand against Calamity. It’s so much to bear, so much weight.”

She drew a deep breath before she went on. “The thing is, Urbosa… I don’t feel like any of those things, like one who was made by the goddess to defend this land. You are so powerful. Revali is so bold. Mipha is so gentle and Daruk is so strong. And Link is…”

She blushed. “He is what he is. That’s all I can say about that. And what am I? I’m just… Zelda, Urbosa. I’m not anyone special, not really, not because of who I am or what I’ve done, just because of my birthright. I’m just a girl who digs around in ancient ruins all day looking for a key to the past. That’s not enough; it’s not nearly enough.” 

Urbosa sat still and studied her with those deep green eye, pale as the waters at Kara Kara Bazaar. A wise woman, though not the avatar of wisdom itself, she held her peace and let Zelda keep on. “It’s not that I don’t want to be enough, you know,” she said. “And I have tried. By the goddess and all my ancestors I have tried. I just… cannot. You know it as well as I do.” She wiped a bitter tear from her cheek. “You’ve seen me fail enough times, after all. And so instead of celebrating our victory those who remain will mourn our deaths--if anyone is left to mourn. Instead of a beginning for love and light this night will be just a memory, just a dream on the desert wind.”

“It’s a very poetic image, little bird.”

“A very poetic image, Urbosa? Is that all you have to say?”

“No, but I do not think you will like my other observation very much.”

“What do you mean?”

“You are whining, my love.”

“Whining? Whining?” A fire grew hot in Zelda’s belly. “I’m sorry, but… did you just say that my very justified worry over whether or not I can save all our lives is… whining?”

Urbosa shrugged. “A justification is nothing but an excuse well-dressed by self-righteousness. Do not whine, my love, do not justify or make excuses. Be like Siantae, the one I told you about. Be bold, like her. Dance through the danger!”

“But I can’t dance,” she said. “You know that. I’m clumsy as as hinox.”

“Had you done before what you did tonight?”

She blushed. “You know I hadn’t.”

“Then it shall be the same when you dance, my love. Let the magic flow through your soul--and it is a strong, shining soul. The steps will come as they come.”

“The steps will come as they come… let us hope, then, that they do not lead us to our deaths.”

She shrugged. “What will be will be, my love. It is enough to have walked the path with you. Now… let us enjoy one last desert moonrise.”

And so they did. It rose fat, full and yellow, pregnant with reflected light, and its gleam shone in the hearts of them all.


End file.
